Isle Esme
by Kendall N.S
Summary: It faded to a painful black before I arose to a burning that soared through my spirit. Was this fire heaven? Was I sent to hell? -Esme POV-
1. Stepping Out

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, if I did, it would be Carlisle's story. Not Bella's. _

**Chapter One; Stepping out**.

_Esme POV_;

"Esme Anne Platt! Come here this instant!" Mother's shrill voice pierced the air and a flinch rolled through my spine as I looked up in fear. Was something wrong? Did I do anything wrong?

Rushed thoughts of fear climbed through my mind as I stood up from my paints and canvases. My fingers curling against the softly worn cloth of my skirt, bumps of fear rose up on my skin. She only spoke that way when she was angry. A list of things I could have done wrong ran through my mind as I took hesitant steps toward Mother's room.

The door was already open; not a good sign.

Taking a peak around the corner, I flinched again. She was glaring at me.

Mother wore a long dress that had large greenish welts marking her shoulders, her long dark brown hair ran down her back in curls and her pale blue eyes were narrowed in complete and utter distaste. Her lips turned down into what seemed like a permanent scowl. The baby, Nicholas, was curled into her arm in a deep sleep. I wish I could be like that, just to not hear Mother's yelling. He was the lucky one; the boy of the family. Always treasured and spoiled like a little prince.

I couldn't help but love him though; he was my favorite right now. Such a sweet one.

Mother cleared her throat and my attention snapped back up to her, fear stiffening all of the bones in my body. Her gaze always affected me that way.

"Esme Anne Platt," She said in a low hiss that sent irrevocable shivers down my spine, "tell me why I called you here."

Her request made the blood flowing through my veins freeze in their tracks and I held fistfuls of my skirt. My shoulders braced to accept whatever beating came soon after.

"I don't know, Mother." I said softly, and then squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for her hand to come down onto me again. Though no such thing happened and I peeked out one eye to see her staring strictly at me, her jaw locked in place and a vein throbbing in her neck. As if she was resisting doing anything. Her lips pursed into a tight line.

"Esme," She hissed again before her voice became soft, "A suitor has come for your hand. The priest will marry you tomorrow."

Elation filled me and I couldn't help but smile; all of my older sisters, and a few younger ones, have already been married off, I was the only one left. All of them were off happily married with children, oh how I want children. I took a safety glance at Nicholas, bless his soul; he was still in that trance inducing sleep.

"Yes, mother." I said softly before feeling a sharp stinging sensation come over my cheek. My eyes widened and I held back the tears of pain that so badly wanted to fall. The look of complete insanity came back her to eyes and she glared at me.

"Leave!" She barked and I scampered out of the room and out of the house, cradling my cheek and letting the tears flow. It was my fault. She wasn't happy and it was because of me. It was because I looked like him that she hated me above all of my siblings. From what Twila told me, he was there during my birth and left a while after. That's when mother began to go insane. Well, that's what Twila told me. That's what her mother told Twila and she told me.

I hid behind the large oak tree that was growing several yards from our house, my cheek cradled to my palm. Heat radiated from my cheek into my palm, embarrassment flooded my cheeks all the more. Stupid Esme! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Having Mother angry wasn't the way to go when you had to stay. It wasn't the way to make her happy, like Emily told me to. Emily told me to always make mother happy since she was the one that made me. I owed that to her. She would be the one in my life for eternity and that was all there was to be needed. To let her have every wish she wants of me, that included being married even though I was already happy about that.

Marriage.

A happy sigh escaped me as I leaned back against the tree and stared up at the clouds. Unfortunately, there weren't that many floating around the sky. The pale blue painted the sky delicately, before a loud snap caught my attention.

I caught a glimpse of onyx orbs before they disappeared, the lightest splashes of crimson curling on the ground.

Blood.

I could already feel bile climbing up my throat and I quickly swallowed to notice tufts of brown fur decorating the ground around it. Before I could stop myself, I stood and wandered closer. It was blood and fur. An animal? Was there a hunt? Mother would have told me if there was a hunt so I wouldn't come close to the forest.

I swallowed again and looked deeper into the forest, my eyes narrowed in a squint. Then, I saw it. How could I not, the pale skin practically glowed in the darkness of the forest. A mop of copper hair rested on top of the figure. It looked like a man. A slow shiver descended down my spine as I looked at the man closer, risking a step forwards.

The man's head jerked up and began to look at me; it felt as though the wind was pushed out of me angrily. This was a hunt, but not a normal one. His pale white face was painted with crimson around his mouth, his teeth bared.

"Esme!" My mother's voice shouted and I came back to reality before taking a couple steps back and running back into the house. Cold shivers cascading down my shoulders and throughout my body as I ran. Stopping at the door briefly, I looked back at the forest, just to see if I could still see that man. He was no longer there, but the memory was pressed permanently into my mind. "Esme!"

I rushed inside and saw Mother standing next to a tall, brawny man with hair on his chin. His hazel eyes stared down at me in satisfaction and a deceiving smile pulled out on his lips. This must be the man. I quickly pushed myself into a deep curtsy, hoping that my entrance wasn't rude. Risking a glance up, I saw a look of approval on Mother's face.

"Esme, this is Charles Evenson, your fiancé."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." I said softly, coming out of the curtsy and he pulled my hand up from my side and brushed his lips over my knuckles, a warm sensation tickled my cheeks.

"As it is to meet you, m'lady." He said gruffly, the same alluring smile on his lips. I returned the smile with pleasure.

"Wonderful," Mother said with relish lining her voice, "So the marriage shall continue?"

Charles Evenson took only a glance at Mother before turning back to her, "Yes, it shall."

***

Each stroke that brushed the canvas expressed how I felt. Well, it wasn't really a canvas, those were too expensive, it was more like large, flat pieces of wood that I would find when I went into the city. When I found them, I would clean them in a nearby stream since Mother didn't like it when I used the clean water from the well. It cost a lot of money to keep the well on the property that she owned now that Father was dead; she was looking for a husband as well. The governor only gave her a certain amount of time to find a husband before the property was taken away from her.

Taking my thoughts away from that, I remembered the silken feeling of the wedding dress that I wore. It was beautiful and felt like water under my fingertips. Charles looked beautiful as well in formal clothing. The wedding wasn't big, it was quite small. My mother, a few sisters and Charles' family were the only ones who actually attended. He took me on that night and it hurt quite a bit, but I managed to hide the pain from him. His wide smiles made my day.

A soft sigh of relish escaped my lips as I remembered Charles' smile, it was so bright and filled with hope. Taking a glance around the room I was in, I felt like I was living in luxury. It was a mansion that was set atop a hill with a few trees. Beautiful cars parked near the house that would cost more than Mother's house, this was truly a wonderful marriage. I have everything I've ever wanted, why should that change? It brings joy to my soul that it won't. The only other thing that made me ecstatic about today was that I was turning 16, just making the one year anniversary of marriage with Charles.

Esme Anne Evenson.

A dizzying sensation came over me and I felt like dancing. Charles was everything that one would want, I could ask for no more.

Just as I spun around the room, a shiver traveled through the house as well as a loud 'bang' of a door slam. My body went rigid for a moment before I heard loud yelling. The language wasn't English, but it sounded Spanish. How did Charles know Spanish?

My mind swam in curiosity as I peeked out of my room and rushed down the stairs. The silken night robe I wore lingered near my ankles. Before I could even reach the foot of the stairs, the door slammed shut again, making me jump. Looking around cautiously, I walked off of the stairs before walking into the parlor. He sat there with a cigar hanging off of his lip. Anger darkened his cheeks and eyes. He didn't notice me at all.

"Charles?" I whispered and his eyes flickered up to me, the same anger pulsed through his body, "Is something wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing, Esme," He spat sardonically. I winced at the tone of his voice.

"Alright," I said softly before taking a couple steps towards the door before he called me again.

"Esme," He called out almost mockingly, "Where are you going?"

"Just into the front," I responded softly, my fingers tangling into my hair. He was silent for a moment.

"Alright," He said, waving it off before I saw a puff of smoke receding from the parlor. A shiver traveled down my spine, such a nasty habit of his.

As I stepped outside, the refreshing scents of grass and pine greeted me. It felt good to be outside again. Though during the day would be much nicer. Looking around, I made sure no one was watching. Then, I approached my favorite tree and put a good foothold onto it; I began to climb up it. My lips pursed as I made sure to grab the right branches and to equalize my balance on the branches. Pulling myself up, I sat on one of the highest branches. I could see the entire village from up here and it looks beautiful.

A sigh of appreciation played through my lips as I allowed the wind to blow through my hair, making me feel as though I was flying. I suddenly felt as though something was pulling me backwards and I realized my robe had snagged onto one of the branches. I began to pull on it, only for it to pull me down.

A loud scream escaped my lips as I landed on the ground, feet first only to tumble over. Severe pain was running up and down my right leg. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked up at the sky again.

No stars, just clouds.

_Review please! I'll update faster with reviews! _


	2. The Doctor

_Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, if I did, it would be under the genre 'Satire'. _

**Chapter Two; the Doctor **

_Esme POV; _

"Esme," Charles' voice rang out and I realized I had to get up. He couldn't see me like this, it was dishonorable. My eyes darted around and spotted a nearby branch I could pull myself up on. So I did, but the same paralyzing pain ran through my leg. A hiss escaped my teeth and I forced a smile to greet him. Dipping into a rather painful curtsy.

He eyed me suspiciously, "What were you doing?"

My eyes darted towards the ground before looking back up at him, "Nothing, Darling."

"Are you sure?" He asked the suspicion thicker in his voice as he approached me. I bit my lip and stared at the ground before looking back up at him. So, I dipped into an even deeper curtsy, pain rocketed through my leg and I pressed the weight down. Hoping the pain wouldn't be audible.

He came closer to me, his hazel eyes steely and a grim smirk on his lips. The scent of alcohol from his breath finally reached me. My eyes widened; he was drunk and angry.

"Are you quite sure?" He asked again, and I finally looked up at him. He was glaring at me now, he saw my lie, but I mustn't let it out. Charles didn't know what I was doing, if he did, he would chop down that beautiful tree. He wouldn't let me out of the house.

"Yes, Darling," I said softly before another sharp pain broke through my leg, I fell over clutching it only to just realize Charles had kicked me.

He glared at me with loathing, "Do not lie to me, Esme _dearest_."

I bit down on my lip, hard. It kept the cries of pain that I wanted to let out so badly.

xXx

"Thank you, Lady Twila," Charles said to her as she walked in, worry marred her face. Her dark brown eyes darted around until she saw me, cradling my leg. "I'm afraid I cannot accompany my Esme to Doctor Cullen's."

At this, he shot a disturbing glare in my direction and I flinched and sent my eyes downcast. Shame swirled in my mind as I heard the door click close. Looking back up, I saw the rebellious Twila Bunker, my best friend. She stared at me skeptically. Dark brown curls ran down her back and framed a heart shaped face with full lips and wide, dark brown eyes. Worry and laugh lines were beginning to take place on her face, due to the misery she had gone through and lived with. She stood tall, her pointed chin jerked out defiantly.

As soon as she realized Charles was out of earshot, she walked carefully towards me. "What did he do to you?"

She asked this as she looked at my leg curiously, jerking my leg out and I hissed in pain. She quickly apologized and went back to analyzing. I was only hoping she wouldn't see the abnormal bruise that was pressed under my knee. It wasn't in the same place that I felt most of the pain; it was just where Charles kicked me. I hoped she wouldn't realize it was out of place.

"Nothing," I squeaked, "I fell off a tree."

Twila looked at me skeptically before smirking at me, "My, my, what a little monkey you are Lady Evenson."

I could feel the heat rush into my cheeks and I shook my head, "Please just take me to Dr. Cullen."

"Oh, yes," She continued to tease, "Of course you would want to see the beautiful Dr. Cullen."

I looked away from her, "I've never met Dr. Cullen before."

"Well," She said straightening up, the smirk still on her lips, "let's leave. I'm willing to bet my babe that you're leg's broken by that shrew."

"Twila!" I scolded in surprise, "I fell while climbing."

She rolls her eyes and helps me up, another shot of pain ran through my leg and I used her as my crutch. We walked out of the house this way.

"Why do you put up with him anyway?" She asked casually, I only glanced at her and shook my head. Of course she wouldn't understand. She was put through so much spite and grueling misery that she developed an insistently sharp tongue. We grew up together, but Mother didn't want me to be around her. She was scared that her wit would rub off on me.

I let out a soft sigh, "Because I love him." I could feel the dizzying sensations of those feelings wracking through my mind as I remembered the way I felt when he held me on my wedding night. It hurt incomparably, just he kept me close. It felt good and it felt right.

Twila scoffs and rolls her eyes but said nothing. We continued to walk in complete silence, it seemed as though her mind was swirling with thoughts. Though I couldn't really blame her; she lost her husband—Richard Bunker—only a year after their marriage. This left her with two sons, one of which died. I don't know what I would have done if a child of mine had died. I don't know if I'd be able to live on like she had. Though she had a reason to live on, her other son that inherited her curls and Richard's pale blue eyes. His name was Henry, in honor of her father.

We soon reached a small house, a small fenced in area even though someone was sitting on the porch in a made up chair. The coppered hair of the handsome boy was familiar, though I couldn't help but furrow my brow as I stared at him. His amber shaded eyes flickered over to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin and looked away quickly. My eyes on my shoes and the pain running through my leg seemed so much more prominent. Taking a quick glance at Twila, she had her eyes set before her strictly. As if she was avoiding the gaze of the handsome boy.

She only took a glance at him with her lips set into a frown, "Is Dr. Cullen here today?"

"Yes," The boy said in a low, mellow voice. I could still feel his gaze boring into my forehead. I tried to lean on my leg and pain shot through my leg and I gripped Twila's shoulder tightly. She gave me a worried look and held me up higher.

"Where is he?" She asked quickly to the same boy, apparently she didn't get the same chills that I did from the amber eyed boy.

"In the house," He said snidely with a jerk of his thumb towards the house. Taking only a quick glance at him, I immediately regretted it. He was still glaring at me.

Then it clicked, he was that man I saw in the forest with the blood on his face. The tufts of fur. Everything. Just as these thoughts ran through my mind, a shot of pain ran through my leg again and I let out a groan before feeling the wetness on my face.

Twila began to drag me into the house; the glare of the amber-eyed boy bore into my back and still made me want to jump out of my skin. Her naturally obnoxious attitude came out without even knocking as she entered the house, with me in tow. She sets me on the nearest thing, it was a couch that looked and felt as though it was imported from England.

Though Twila was cynical and obnoxious, she was a mother. She enjoyed acting like my mother and I loved it as well. Even though she was only a year older than me, she was married at fourteen.

"Are you ok?" She whispered, "Are you ok? Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," I insisted and she scoffed before pulling my skirt up to look at my bruise again. Heat rushed to my face all over again and I pushed it back down.

"Twila!" I squeaked accusingly and she sighed.

"I was just trying to look at your leg," She said as she slowly pulled my skirt back up to look at the bruise before raising an eyebrow. She could see where a ring of bruises appeared around my calf, she prodded it for a moment and I winced, before she looked at the other bruise. It was turning into an odd shape and seemed to look like a triangle with a puncture in the middle of it. She opened her lips to say something—

"Hello," A smooth masculine voice called out and I looked up only to gasp. A handsome man stood there with an intelligent looking face. Smooth blond hair swept back with golden brown eyes staring straight at me. They reminded me of when you put oil on water. Stark white skin seemed to give an ethereal glow when set against his blond hair.

Twila cleared her throat and I quickly looked away, realizing that I was staring. I began to wring my hands and I glanced back up at him.

"Is there something I may help you with, Miss—"

"Bunker," She interrupted him, "Twila Bunker and this is Esme Evenson, I think her leg's broken."

"Hmm..." He said smoothly as he walked closer to peer at the bruise on my leg and the awkward position it was in. "Oh, my apologies, my name is Carlisle Cullen and that is my son on the porch, Edward Cullen."

I nodded Carlisle and Edward Cullen. The amber eyed boy is named Edward and Carlisle Cullen is the doctor. Though it did seem strange that he would have a son that was around my age. I suppose it would be possible, but it still seemed strange. He was probably around ten years older than me. Around Charles' age.

He began to prod at it, like Twila was doing earlier. Pain rocketed again and I let out a hiss. He analyzed it for a couple of moments, "Yep, it's broken."

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, I figured that much."

He simply glances at her before turning back to me, then he turned around and walked into a different room.

I suddenly felt my body relax against the couch, the velvety material felt good to the touch but almost too luxurious. Charles might be able to afford a couch like this, but I doubt he would actually buy one. He only buys what he feels is "necessary".

Twila suddenly stood her stance steely.

"Why are you getting up?" I asked her softly, she looks down at me with a smirk.

"I'm going to talk to that Cullen boy."

"Why?"

"He's glaring at me." She said before walking out the front door and onto the porch, I glanced over my shoulder just to realize that there was a large window with curtains draping over the corners. That Edward boy was still standing there, this time facing Twila. Her face was twisted with anger. Her temper was far too easily set off.

My fingers automatically moved over my lips to hide the chuckle that escaped my lips. Looking back up, Mr. Cullen was standing there with a splint; he had already pushed my skirt back up without my knowledge and was putting it on my leg. Heat began to pool in my cheeks and I quickly looked away and bit down on my lip as he straightened out my leg. A gasp escaped through my teeth and I held onto the cushion. My teeth ground together.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Evenson." Mr. Cullen said and I didn't dare look down in his eyes. The sin of lust would overcome such a simple woman as I to such beauty. Relief flooded my system when he was done touching my leg.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen." I said softly as I moved my leg a little to test it. He quickly gives me a long piece of smooth wood with a hook. A cane.

He helps me up and put the cane in my hand, "Walk."

I stumbled a little, but continued to walk with the cane. It made me feel so old, already walking with a cane and only 16. I couldn't bend my knee very much.

"Thank you," I repeated and I looked up at him shyly. He gave me a fantastic smile and gave a bow; I tried to return a curtsy. Only to stumble a little because I couldn't bend my knee. He chuckles and I could feel the flush rising to my cheeks again. "I think my friend is arguing with your son, Dr. Cullen."

He chuckles and covers his mouth, "Yes, I suppose he is. Both your friend and my son have a temper, which is odd…"

Heat rushed into my cheeks again, "Yes, Twila doesn't put up with men anymore."

A dark stab ran through my chest as I remembered the gruesome stories she told me about her father and her brothers and what they used to do to her. An absolute torture chamber and she managed to live through it and stay the way she was. It just put more steel into her backbone.

"You sound proud of her." He pointed out with a grin and I couldn't help but smile.

"I am," I said softly as I looked through the window again to see Twila and Edward arguing, or as she'd call it debating. She only called it fighting when her face turned bright red and her lips pulled back into a snarl. Though right now, she just looked irritated.

"Oh," I said in realization, "How much do I owe you?" I quickly snatched up my purse from the couch and began to riffle through before looking back up at him with a questioning gaze. He chuckles and waves his hand in the air.

"It's alright," He said as though it was a joke, "Nothing."

"Oh," I said, "But—"

"You owe me nothing," He said smoothly, pressing his hands into his pockets and I gave him a half-glare as I stared up into his oil-on-water eyes. I shake my head with a sigh; he rejects money for a service? How strange. "Fine."

I pressed my purse shut, only a little relieved. Charles would have been angry if I spent a lot of money. He would have accused me of lying to him since I tried to lie to him about my leg. I just didn't want that beautiful tree to come down. He would take it down now and I glanced towards the wood paneled floor and rubbed my arms as if it was cold.

"Are you cold, Mrs. Evenson?" He asked softly and I jumped, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I sometimes do that when I think….."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "You're strange."

Anger suddenly flooded through me and I pushed it away. It wasn't necessary, it was just his opinion. It didn't matter right now. I forced a smile and a bright demeanor, "It was nice speaking to you, Dr. Cullen."

"You as well, Mrs. Evenson." He said with another bow and I resisted from trying to curtsy again. I leaned onto the cane and felt the immediate relief of having a third leg.

Carlisle chuckles again, "It looks like Edward is becoming frustrated with your friend."

I took another glance at the pair, they were still arguing. Only his brow furrowed and his lips seemed to have tightened.

"I'll just—I'll, umm…." I stuttered as I walked towards the door and he chuckled at my flustered face, I could feel my insides burning up with anger because he was laughing at me. It was completely demeaning. "Thank you, good bye."

Walking back out of the door both turned and faced me. Both faces frustrated and felt my body freeze up, then defrost and I continued to walk towards Twila. She had already turned and snapped something at Edward, whose face turned to surprise at her own surly attitude towards men.

"Twila," I said softly, "Twila!"

"Huh, What?" She said coming out of her attitude a bit, "Oh, Esme, he fixed you up. Ok, let's go. Better to get away from this shrew." She threw a scathing look at the copper haired boy and slung an arm over my shoulders, making me lean reflexively on my foot. A wince rolled through my body and I shot a glare at her over my shoulder. She quickly got off and raised her hands in front of her in defeat.

"Hey, don't give me that look!" she said pointing at me and I rolled my eyes and began to walk down the driveway, getting out of the fenced in area and she followed me.

"I hope we don't have to come and see these people again," She said, obviously loud enough for the boy to hear, but I had a feeling that he would hear anyway even if she didn't say it so loudly. "That Cullen boy should learn some manners."

"Maybe he'll learn them as quickly as you do." I quipped and she shot a glare at me out of the corner of her eye before scowling, her hands rolled into fists.

"Men are supposed to be polite to women."

"As are women to men."

She scowls again and shakes her head at me with a sigh. She didn't need to say anything for me to understand. Her views were highly feministic and she believed that men should bow to the needs of a woman any time it was needed. Especially when she wanted him to.

"If only you would let me teach you the great ways of being a feminist…." Twila said wistfully, ending with a sigh of despair and over dramatics. I giggled in response and she slams her fist onto her open palm.

"It's a great opportunity!" She exclaimed melodramatically with her hands out in front of her like a pendulum. "Then you wouldn't have to put up with those rude Cullens! They think they're so big just because they're pretty and rich…" She continued in an incoherent grumble with her arms crossed under her breath.

I couldn't help but look back at them with curiosity; the Cullen boy had already gone back inside. Though that memory a year ago still haunted me.

A hunter.

Blood.

Fur.

A man.

Only one word swirled in my mind from every myth that seemed to encircle these words.

_Vampire_.

xXx

_I'll update after more reviews! Esme is too neglected in Twilight, so here I am giving her an actual personality! _


	3. The Escape

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter Three; the Escape **

_Esme POV_

* * *

Ten years later….

A wistful sigh escapes my lips as I ran my fingers over my swollen stomach. A life was in my hands. That thought brought beautiful sensations ran through my abdomen and through my breast. It took forever for this to happen, but it did. I finally have a child. I hope it's a boy.

A giggle escaped my lips as I traced out the patterns on the cloth that rested over my stomach. Charles was so happy that he finally had a child. The caramel colored strands of hair ran down my shoulders and waved over my baby's envelope. It felt natural to stroke the spot over my baby. It felt needed. I giggled again as I stood from the rocking chair where I sat. A number of the maids tried to make me sit back down.

"Lady Esme, please sit back down," one of them said with a thick Spanish accent. I shook my head at her.

"I wish for a stroll," I said with a soft smile and she backed away with warning glances towards the others. I walked outside, my hands folded atop my child. My child. A sigh of relish escaped my lips and I could feel my cheeks become rosy. I sat near a tree stump, my fingers traced out the wide rings. It brought back memories of nearly a decade ago. I wasn't yet 26, my birthday was in a week. Surely Charles would ravish me with gifts like he had years before. Especially now with his son in my stomach, hopefully it would be a son.

Another sigh came from my lips as I stared out, the view was flawless. I could see everything over the small city that seemed to keep building. The small house where Dr. Cullen lived was now vacant. Very soon after he fixed my leg, he left with his son. Though the only way I knew was because Twila told me. She always had an odd knack for being the town gossip. A small smirk edged its way onto my lips as I lay back against the lush green grass. I was living in the best situation.

A wonderful husband who cared about me and only wanted the best for me and a baby boy on the way. My fingers traced circles on my stomach. I ran my fingers over my stomach again as I sat up, my legs splayed out. The hem of my dress tickled my calves and part of my sleeve pulled up. Revealing an ugly, greenish brown bruise that took up most of my arm. My eyes widen and I quickly pulled the sleeve down to cover it up. It was my fault that he got angry. I wasn't being a good wife.

I shook my head before feeling a tinge of rebelliousness, why couldn't he deal with what I was? After all, I was his wife. I bore him a child. I didn't deserve to be treated in such a cruel way.

I mentally slapped myself as I wrapped my arms around my stomach. Though the tips of my fingers barely touched each other as I stood up and waddled towards the door and sat down in the sitting room just outside of the kitchen.

The sun was setting, so pretty…

I wish it could stay that way, if only it could. Yet, there was Charles walking up with a group of his friends. Each dressed in rich fabric that wasn't sold any where save for foreign colonies.

Getting up, I rushed to the bathroom and snatched up the large, silver handled brush and ran it through my tangled curls. I wouldn't be good enough for Charles if I didn't look presentable in front of his friends. He would become angry…

I winced as the brush ran over the thick bruise that covered my shoulder and I brought the sleeve up higher, he didn't like it when others saw them. My eyes squeezed shut as I pulled my hair back with a red ribbon and brushed out the wrinkles in my dress before I waddled out with my hands around the swelling in my stomach.

It felt as if I had swallowed a watermelon whole, the pinpricks of tears burned at the corners of my eyes as I quickly wiped them away. He got made when I cried. I sighed and walked out of the bathroom with a smile on my lips. I was lucky to have him, there were so many other women that would kill for the opportunity that I had.

Charles was rich, handsome and kind. He was everything I could ever want. He was the best thing that ever happened to me, it's my fault whenever something terrible happened. He was always right. It had to be a boy. Please, dear god, let it be a boy.

That sentence repeated itself in my mind like a mantra. It would be terrible for it to not be a boy. Charles was so excited for a boy.

I bit my lip and took a deep breath in before brushing off the nonexistent dust that rested on my dress and walked in and back out of the bathroom again.

Charles and his friends were already in the sitting room. _In and out, Esme, In and out,_ I told myself before entering the room with a smile.

"Ah, Esme dearest," He said with feigned surprise before getting up and kissing my cheek and setting a hand on my stomach. He then looked at his friends with a look of pride, "You know my wife, Esme."

"Of course," the black haired man stood with a sly smile before he took my hand in his and brushed his lips over the air of my knuckles. "James Smith, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Evenson."

I forced a blush to my cheeks and pulled hand from his, "Pleasure."

The copper haired man simply nodded with an air of confidence, his eyes seemed vaguely familiar and he seemed a little young. He didn't blink though and his eyes were brown with flecks of gold. As hard as I tried to pick out his name from my memory, I couldn't find it. So I simply smiled and allowed my gaze to flicker to the other men. One had dark blonde hair that swept back with deep brown eyes, his name was Francis Shoemaker. The other had dark brown hair that lingered around his ears and inquisitive hazel eyes, his name was Joseph Vanderwolf.

The evening continued with us having dinner and me forcing smiles as my husband talked. The vapid conversation ran in my ear and out the other along with giggles and a few forced blushes. The evening went by very quickly and before I knew it, they were gone. Once the door closed, Charles turned to look at me. The kindness that was once on his face drained and was replaced with inexplicable fury as he stormed up to me and took hold of my shoulders. I winced as he held the bruise tightly and dug his nails through the thin fabric.

"Why were you flirting with them, you harlot?" He hissed into my ear as he bent down to the level so he could inflict pain both mentally and physically.

"I—"

"Don't try to deny it," He continued as his grip tightened, "the only reason they weren't dry humping you in public was because you have a child."

"Char—"

"Don't interrupt me, woman." He snapped and pushed me roughly into the corner of the wall, luckily it only hit my other shoulder. "I could snap you like the twig you are. You are only a woman, and that is how it has always and will be. I saw how you looked at Joseph and Edward."

A sharp sting to my cheek sent me reeling into the corner with my arms wrapped around my baby. A burn stung at my eyes as I stared at him. My Charles was angry because I wasn't good enough. I was nowhere near a good enough wife to him. But by baby boy couldn't hear him say these things. These terrible words that cursed the very heavens that I was born.

With a sudden twist of my ankles, I felt a sharp pain run through my back from his sharp knuckles as I fell over with my arms wrapped protectively around my baby.

"Dammit, woman!" He shouted at me as he grabbed my bruised—and now bleeding—shoulder so I could look at him. Anger flushed through his face as he grabbed my jaw roughly. "I will not let you corrupt my son."

"What if it's a girl?" I blurted out. I could feel the sting of tears roll down my cheeks. Almost immediately I knew this was the wrong thing to say. His face went pale with fear, then turned several shades of red with anger before his hand flung across my cheek again. I was almost numb with the pain that he inflicted on me.

"You better pray that it isn't a girl," He hissed threateningly as his fingernails dug into my neck. I winced again and tried to hold back the tears that wanted to flow off of my cheeks.

I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a ball as I felt him remove his hand and awaited his next strike. I didn't realize that I would have to face his fury. I thought he wanted me to be a good wife to his friends. This is all my fault. If I hadn't done that, he wouldn't be furious. Everything would be fine.

It wasn't until the door clicked shut and the whirl of Spanish words filled the air that I realized he was gone. Most likely to track down his friends again and go drinking. A tender hand touched my shoulder very briefly and I winced and pulled away immediately only to notice one of the maids had a worried look on her face. I reached up and barely brushed the skin of her tanned cheek before she whirled around and called out to the other maids. I recognized the words she used as to 'Call Miss Twila Bunker.'

I allowed the maids to help me to one of the chairs so that they could dress the new wounds Charles gave me. If I hadn't been so wanton with his friends, he wouldn't be so mad at me. If I hadn't acted as such a harlot, he wouldn't have been so mad at me.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall startled me, was Charles home so early already? He didn't usually come home after a few minutes. He usually stayed out for hours on end and came back in the middle of the night extremely drunk.

"Esme Platt!" Twila's voice shouted as I looked up and I saw her storm in, she didn't use my actual surname. Her eyes were filled with worry and her deep brown curls were flared out around her, accenting her body as she brought her hands to gently cup my cheeks. Though I couldn't help but wince on contact, the numbness was fading away and I was already feeling sore. I wouldn't feel good at all tomorrow morning.

"What has he done to you?" Her voice wavered from distress to anger and I flinched.

"He didn't—"

"Don't you dare say that," She quickly snapped at me as her finger ran down the side of my neck, over the spot where his nails dug into my skin. "Tell me."

"It was my—"

"No, it wasn't," She said softly as she set her hands experimentally on my shoulders and I winced. She flinched and gently cupped my chin so I could look up at her, her thumb gently brushing my tears away as she looked at me. Her doe-eyed stare into my own and she wrapped a lock of caramel around her index finger before letting it go and giving me a firm stare.

"Esme," She said strictly, her shoulders held back and her nose in the air. I had to strain my neck slightly to meet her gaze in my sitting position. "Will you come with me to Wisconsin?"

My eyes widened and I hesitated before my fingers traced out my baby's envelope. "Yes."

As quickly as that word escaped my lips, a flurry of the Spanish language filled the air and in minutes, my bags were next to the door and I heard Twila exchanging words with the head maid. I didn't know she knew how to speak Spanish. Even in a different language, I could hear the threatening edge that was in her voice. It was always coherent whenever she threatened someone. It was the same as when she haggled for something to be cheaper.

Even faster, she helped me carry my bags into her car and I followed her out. It was all I knew, after all. Climbing in on the passenger's side, I snuggled into the seat with my hands tucked beneath my baby's cradle. I knew I was safe in Twila's hands.

* * *

_A/N: It hurt so much to write this chapter, and I think you should realize some similarity between Esme and Bella's narration. That's because Bella's narration is simply the poster narration for an abusive relationship. If you can figure out was Twila's name means, you will have a chapter dedicated to you. Please review, it fuels my creativity. _


	4. Tragedy

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight_

* * *

**Chapter Four; Tragedies **

_Esme POV _

* * *

"Twila, the sky is astounding with its flare of colors!" I exclaimed enthusiastically as I watched the warm colors of red, orange and pink stretch across the clouds and she chuckled as she looked out with a soft smile.

"Quite the poet you have become, Lady Platt." I couldn't help but wincing at her words, only to straighten back up and remember that he had no control over me any longer. I was a free woman now. Along with my baby—be it boy or girl. It was nearly time; the town's doctor said I was at least eight months in.

A soft thump responded to my palm and I squealed, "Twila, she kicked!"

She rushed over and set her palm on my stomach and another thump resounded and a grin stretched across her cheeks, showing off her elegantly high cheekbones. "My, my, my, Lady Platt, you have a strong lad with you."

"Mum," the soft voice of Henry echoed from behind us and she turned, "there's a strange man here to see you."

As soon as he had said this, a very familiar and handsome man came up from behind Henry—who appropriately rushed behind his mother's skirts. Twila's eyes widened before narrowing and her lips set into a firm line before looking straight at the man. His hair was the color of rust and his eyes were a golden brown. He looked too familiar. Then it hit me, he was at that little meeting with Charles.

_No, no, no, no,_ Echoed in my mind and I looked desperately at Twila, who wasn't paying me any sort of attention. His gaze flickered to me for a bare moment before he walked up to Twila in quick strides before showing her an exquisite bouquet. Her cheeks flushed before draining as she stared at the flowers with scrutiny.

"Are you courting me, dear sir?" She asked with an arched eyebrow, her bold question didn't seem to surprise him.

"Would you object terribly to me doing so, Lady Bunker?"

"Yes, I do." She said immediately before snatching up her son's hand and stalking off around him, leaving the young man shocked still.

"I apologize for Lady Bunker's brash behavior." I said quickly before waddling as fast as I could towards her as I could, her footsteps were quick. As soon as I thought he was out of earshot, I turned to look at Twila—who was shooing Henry off to play with the other boys in the park.

"Twila, why didn't you tell me that you were being courted?"

"Because I thought it would have stopped when we left Ohio," She said swiftly, her hands folded across her abdomen and eyes closed. "He's a persistent one he is, and to think we didn't get along when we were young."

"Did I know him?" I continued to pester, but I couldn't help it. Curiosity couldn't feed itself.

She gives me an incredulous look, "Of course, he was that boy that was being raised by Dr. Cullen. He hasn't exactly changed from what I've seen of him."

I bite down on my lip and stare at the sky, what was that boy's name again?

"His name is Edward Cullen."

"If I hadn't known you, I'd be accusing you of witchcraft for speaking my thoughts." I said with a chuckle and she joined in even though she knew it wasn't funny. The rest went on in conversation I couldn't bother to remember and we went back to the small cottage that her cousin owned, but lent to her. She was incredibly lucky to have wealthy relatives though she insisted that they weren't wealthy, simply excessive.

Things were safe at last.

* * *

"Push, Lady Platt, push!" The nurse exclaimed and I bit down on the towel in my mouth hard. The pain that ran though my abdomen and legs was absolutely unbearable and another groan echoed through my lips. Twila had left earlier, saying she was to pick up groceries and make me a glorious dinner for my first child.

"One more time!" The nurse urged and I cried out before a new wail echoed in my ears. My breathing was quick as I looked down at my child in the nurse's arms, she was cleaning my child. My baby boy. A knot of curly, caramel colored hair fit his forehead and I had yet to see his eyes. Oh, I wish to see his eyes…

* * *

"Lady Platt," A soothing voice called to me and my eyes fluttered open to see the same nurse. "You fainted, Lady Platt. Would you like to see your son?"

My throat was suddenly dry and the only way I felt to express myself was to hold my hands out expectantly and the nurse wrinkled her nose. Reluctantly, she brought my baby to me and my heart melted at the sight of him. Cloth wrapped around him, he looked so serene. His porcelain skin I was almost scared to touch. My child. My baby.

His breathing was shallow and unnaturally even and I felt concern begin to weigh down on me. "Is he well?" I whispered to the nurse who looked at me with unease.

"He di'n't cry nea' as much as'a no'mal babe," The nurse said cautiously, as if she was stepping onto a mine field. "Otha then that I can't say 'e was anythin' else otha'than healthy."

Two different nurses, one telling me this. What about the one who helped me give birth? Thought spun in my head and a sharp pain ran through my mind again. "Where's Twila?"

The nurse looked confused.

"Lady Bunker—Twila Bunker," I said quickly and she shook her head at me.

"No 'un by that name 'as come ta visit."

I look down in disappointment only for it to disappear once I see his face again. My boy, my sweet, sweet, baby boy. "My boy," I cooed down at him softly, hoping not to wake him. I didn't even notice that the nurse left until I looked up. She was replaced by someone else, someone I didn't recognize. The man had a thick mustache and strict looking eyes with a portly body—he looked like an official by his uniform.

"Sir?"

"Lady……Evenson?" He asked cautiously and I winced.

"Platt," I corrected, "Esme Platt."

He nodded before looking down at a list in his hands, his face seemed uncharacteristically grim. "Are you not acquaintances with Lady Twila Bunker?"

"I-I am," I said with a dry throat.

His eyes darkened and he looked down, "I'm sorry, Miss Platt. Miss Twila Bunker was attacked by a wild animal, there was no way to save her."

A burn secured my eyes and I gripped my baby tightly, my baby. My Richard. "What about Henry?"

"The little boy?" He asked and I nodded. "He's being sent to live with his family in Washington."

It was just then that I felt the hot tears rolling off my cheeks and down my neck. Twila couldn't be gone. She was more than anything to me. My sister, my best friend…

I felt my body shake and my grip tighten on Richard, he squirmed in discomfort. "Th-this can't be true."

"I'm sorry, Lady Evenson," He said and I flinched, "You should be back on your way to Ohio."

"Wha-what?" I exclaimed, my eyes wide. "No, this is where I live!"

He shook his head at me with pity in his eyes, "Your family sent out a kidnapping report along with your husband. They are desperately worried about you."

The bruises that seemed to have faded over the three months we had been here began to sting in memory. I couldn't just go back to Charles. It was an impossibility. He would kill me.

"Alright," I whispered, "I'll be on my way."

* * *

I threw things into my bag as quickly as I could. There were only a few things I needed to pack and I needed to have food for my Richard. He seemed rather sickly. As soon as everything was in my bag, I wrapped him up tightly in a blanket and used a thick ribbon to secure him to my chest along with a warm cloth. He was very much so asleep.

I ran out as quickly as possible and jumped onto a horse Twila kept in the stables. A dark stab erupted in my chest and I winced and I whipped on the reins. She always did have the bad habit of keeping the bridal and reins on her favorite horse, but it was good for me right now. I could get away faster with my Richard faster.

No one would let me in since I was generally useless, only with a small amount of money and food, I wasn't of any use to anyone. The first thing I reached was the mouth of a cave near the rocky mountain top, the horse stopping at the trickling stream that was nearby and I set myself down on the stone. I hadn't realized how wonderful the cold stone felt until I realized how sore I was to make the horse run.

A loud cry awoke me to my senses and I looked down at Richard and pulled him out of the thick ribbons and pulled the shirt of my dress down to show my bare breast. He was almost immediately attached to it and I let out a sigh of relief the moment his cries calmed. Then, I set him on my shoulder and gently tapped his back. My eyes closed as I heard a gurgling burp from my baby. It sounded like a giggle, but I couldn't be sure before he drifted off to sleep. It felt just as tempting.

I yawned and covered my hand out of habit and began to make a cloth bed for my Richard. I wrapped him up before setting him down, his head resting on the makeshift pillow. With whatever was left, which was simply a long coat and the ribbon that I used to tie him to me, I used for myself. I didn't need a pillow. My darling was the one who needed the warmth.

It was far easier to get to sleep than I had imagined.

The next morning, or it seemed like morning, I woke with a start to the sound of steel against the rock. Taking a quick look around, I spotted the bare flicker of a black cloak. I quickly shook my head at the thought and held my head in my hands to be awoken once again by my darling Richard. I took him into my arms and rocked him for a moment before setting him against my naked breast. He wasn't hungry, so I began to gently pat his back again—hoping it would work. Luckily it did, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. So I held him in my arms and leaned against the cave wall.

The bubbles erupted from the giggles in his lips. Then, his eyes opened for me. They were wide and I froze. Charles's eyes stared up at me with innocence, those cruel hazel eyes. No, Richard isn't Charles. Richard will not be like Charles. I brush my fingers through his beautiful curls and he gives me a smile. Elation filled the very core of me and I felt every part of me glow.

I sighed and lifted him up and around and he sputtered a few more giggles before giggling and I smiled. My baby, my precious baby boy. It wasn't long after that that I fell asleep. Not before long, a week had passed and Richard's eyes were opening much more often than usual. The fuzz on his shoulders rubbed off onto the blankets that I would so often wrap him in and the stream I would wash his diapers and himself in. Every so often, I might bath myself for the feeling dirty was never appealing.

The sound of steel against stone awoke me again and I huddled Richard and me against the corner of the cave, hoping to be ignored as I watched a group of men taking my horse away and finding the little money that I had and taking it. They hadn't noticed me until my Richard let out a wail of despair.

"Shhh!" I whispered to my child, but it was too late, they were looking at me and I felt cold all of a sudden. A malicious grin set across one of the men's faces.

"Looks like we've found ourselves a treat." He said and I held Richard tightly, his wails only growing louder. The broad grin on the man's face disintegrated into annoyance as he looked at Richard.

"Stubborn brat!" He growled, groping for Richard and I immediately pulled away and bared my teeth. Not my child.

"Stay away!" I shouted and I darted off to the mouth of the cave, my baby pressed to my chest. Pain ripped through my skull as I was yanked back and Richard pulled from my arms. "Richard!"

The man threw my darling to the corner of the cave with a loud crack and a silence took over. Unbearable pain wretched through my body as the man forced me down and ripped off my skirt. I scrambled away, indecent. Though now, I really didn't care for it.

"You bitch, get back here!" One of the men shouted at me grabbing onto my arm and forcing me to the ground. Once again, pain ran up my body as I yanked myself away and continued to run. There was no longer anything beneath my feet. I was falling. I was floating. I was flying. The dream came to an end as several pains came to me, through several points.

My Richard. My Twila. My darlings…

It faded to a painful black before I arose to a burning that soared through my spirit. Was this fire heaven? Was I sent to hell?

* * *

_A/N: God, this was painful to write. I hate to torture Esme like this. But it had to happen. And since none of you got the complete answer right, well, let's leave it at that. I'm also looking for a beta for this story. And yes, if you were wondering, I did cry while writing this. Yes, she has extreme pregnancy hormones and depression after she gives birth. It's like the aftereffects of pregnancy. I've observed these from both of my aunt. Please review. _


	5. Almost Human

_I don't own Twilight_

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**Chapter Four; Almost Human **

_Esme POV _

* * *

The pain was blinding. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of seeing the cause of such pain. It was unlike anything I've ever felt before. Not the fear of that animalistic boy, not even the pain of a broken leg. More like a fire whose relentless grip would never release me.

Memories came through me in a flood, a rush. But they weren't mine. Though I recognized them as memories for the foreign emotions that coated and ran ribbons around them. The alley ways were dark and I was running. A raw animalistic pain ran through my system and I knew that the ones I was running from were far behind me.

Even though I was running fast, I could see everything in amazing clarity. Small buildings that looked like they were tumbling down were lit up with small candles. It was almost like I could feel the heat that radiated from it. I quickly grabbed onto a thick iron pole and crouched behind a wall. The raging mob was miles away and the only thing nearby was a few rats. Oddly enough, the squeaks of the rats were comforting.

One of them was found to be in my hand and the scent of the beating heart aroused a thirst deep in my throat. The fur barely touched my lips when the memory disappeared. Tears were burning at my eyes and they sizzled and evaporated upon meeting the hungry fire.

The next memory came with panic and a dark smell. The very same euphoric scent burned my throat. Taking another sporadic glance around I realized where I was: a morgue. Dozens upon dozens of bodies were piled on top of each other. They didn't hold my attention because I was staring down at a teenage boy with rust colored hair and half-lidded green eyes. His breathing was ragged and his chest was barely rising. As far as I could see, he was flushed.

Even though _I_ didn't know what I was doing, the memory did. My mouth was bared against the boy's neck. His skin was butter against my teeth and sweet liquid rushed into my mouth. As quickly as it came, I felt myself wrench away. Why? I wanted it back, but worry thrashed at me and my hands rolled into fists. The boy began to roil and scream—the memory cut off and pain came in its place.

Suddenly, it stopped. All of it stopped. My control was back, but so were the memories. They tasted familiar. It was a new newspaper that dated back into the late 1600's. A small photograph of a handsome blonde man with clipped type writing about how he saved a British Aristocrat. Pride and Satisfaction was prominent, so this picture must've been him. I tried to look closer, but the memory turned its head to a young woman with soft, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. A sisterly affection came through and I smiled down at her.

Before she could say anything—it cut off again and my skin tingled. The fire diminished, it was replaced with newly polished volcanic rock. The molten lava seeped beneath my skin and—oddly enough—it felt good.

My lips opened to release a rattled breath, it felt sore. It didn't give me the former relief it used to hold me to. But it made me catch the scent of everything that floated around me. A far away scent held a combination of so many that I might have received a headache, but the closest to me was a mixture of pine and the scent that comes right after it rains. It was so sweet and sharp.

Then, I broke the seal that kept my eyes shut. The light and colors came at me all at once. Though I didn't need to blink and my eyes didn't water, it was as if I'd already adjusted.

The weird thing was, I was already sitting up with a hand in front of my face. It was completely white with neatly sculpted nails. There were no longer traces of the scars that I achieved around the house and—"Where am I?"

I knew I was the one that asked, but it was my voice that surprised me: smooth and slight, like a trickling stream. The curiosity I found was that of a small child.

The man from the memory stood there, I could clearly decipher his face from the blurred picture. Though now I could tell the difference. HE was far more handsome from the picture. The worry put a crease in his brow as he stared at me, the multi-scented boy stood nearby with caution written in every stop.

The memory hit me only a moment later, "Dr. Cullen, where a—" Something burned in my chest and I quickly licked my lips. A lust for that scent roiled through my very being, I just couldn't stay away from it. It practically sang to me.

A newly found instinct took over and I found myself in front of a boy with a bleeding knee. His clothes were ragged and his skin was dirty—surely an orphan. I'll put him out of his misery. Sweeping him up into my arms, I buried my teeth into his neck. Once again, the skin was just like butter. Sweet euphoria ran down my throat and dimmed the burn by just a bit.

The body was simple and limp in my arms and I stared down at him, his eyes were closed and there was a smile on his lips. He deserved a burial.

Next thing I knew was that my hand was cutting through the dirt. It felt good and natural. I gently set the boy into the hole, it fit with room to spare. I pushed the dirt in quickly and packed it in tightly. Then in a rock, I carved 'RIP' with the tip of my finger. I shoved it roughly into the dirt and made the sign of the cross. God, please forgive me and allow this boy a place in your arms.

I brushed my fingers over the dirt and closed my eyes. Everything turned to my hearing. Dr. Cullen was standing nearby as well as his son.

"Amazing," Dr. Cullen whispered in awe and I turned to face him. The moonlight made a glorious halo around his head, his hair ruffled, golden eyes regarding me with curiosity.

"I'm hungry," I responded in a flowing voice that left me to wonder what else had changed.

He was in front of me with a small struggling animal in his hands that looked like a cat. It didn't smell very appetizing till he pricked its neck with the tips of his fingers. The next thing that happened didn't surprise me—I drained it dry. Making sure all of it collected in my mouth. The thirst subsided and I looked up at him through cautious eyes. What I saw wasn't disgust; it was pity and marvel. As if he hadn't seen anything like me.

"I-I…." I stuttered, "I'm a vampire?" Automatically my fingers searched the caps of my teeth, looking for the sharpened and extended teeth. But I didn't find any. All I felt was the gravelly effect of smooth, hard skin against rocks.

The boy chuckled and gave me an odd look.

I didn't really know what happened next, to be completely honest; I just knew I was in front of the teenage boy. "What's your name?"

"Edward Ma-Cullen," He said with a sputter of his last name.

Then it clicked again, "You're the one that was courting Twila!"

My memories swarmed and I was desperately trying to find her face, but every memory that was mine was blurred. Then, I felt the sudden touch of another and immediately sprang back, my body arched into a crouch. A growl rippling from deep down in my throat.

Her face flashed before my eyes: cheeks flushed with clear annoyance written off against her features.

I forced myself to blink.

Once.

Twice.

Instinct took over from there again once Dr. Cullen began to approach me with his hands in front of him. As if he was trying to calm me. My body went entirely rigid when he grabbed my arms. He began to say something, but I was quickly distracted with my own reflexes. My hands wrapped tightly around his forearms and swung him around until he was on his knees on the dirt. If he was human, I doubt he would be conscious, but he still held to my arms.

Another memory came through, but this one far more…recent. A small woman was lying on a long metal table hooked to a wall twisted oddly. Caramel hair spilled over it with small stains of blood. It aroused a monster when I was close enough to see her face. Her heartbeat was bare against my ears and yet they still declared her dead. I traced her temple to her jaw line and looked back. The medics had already left. Bringing a corpse to a hospital was a fruitless venture even though it was their responsibility, though they were still the ones that did it.

My eyes narrowed when the whispered rumors reached me. Her family, wouldn't they want the body?

I couldn't stay to contemplate the issue, her life hung by a fraying string. So, I swept her into my arms and ran to my house. Edward ran past me, obviously hearing my thoughts. I knew that human blood was too tempting to my newly born son.

Laying the woman down, her heart rate sky rocketed and stuttered. When I bit her, the sweet taste of her blood rushed by my taste buds. Smooth and rich, it was the best I've ever tasted. I wrenched myself away from her and watched her shake—then I, the real me, was just standing there in a complete and utter daze.

Dr. Cullen's hands barely hovered over my shoulders and I stared at him before lifting a hand up. My finger traced down his temple, down his cheek, and over his lips. He was smooth against my skin, but his reaction seemed almost automatic. Almost human.

He leaned against my hand and soft memories whispered into my mind and I quickly pulled my hand away. They stopped immediately. I took several steps back.

"What was that?" I demanded immediately, taking more steps back. I shuddered again and raised my hands. It was so strange and it wasn't me. And that one came onto me so strong. But that was me. He changed me.

I glared at the younger Cullen before Dr. Cullen. He knew what was going on.

My body shook roughly and I fell to my knees. I really needed to cry. I could feel something burning in my eyes, but nothing would come out.

"You can't cry." Edward stated apologetically.

I stared at him, how did he—

"I'm telepathic."

"I'd appreciate it if my thoughts could not be interrupted." I murmured under my breath, but I still heard him chuckle. Well, one of them, I'm pretty sure it was Edward. Looking up, I was looking straight at Dr. Cullen again. It looked like he was looking straight at Dr. Cullen again. It looked like he was thinking again, his yellow eyes clouded in thought.

I jerked up and stood in front of him again. He looked younger than me, but he was still taller than me. He took a cautious step back—his expression warry and exhausted. I wanted to comfot him, but I wasn't sure how. Wouldn't they sleep during the day?

"Those are myths, we don't sleep at all." Edward said quickly.

I pursed my lips again and rubbed my throat, "I'm still hungry."

'Come with me,' Was the message I got when Dr. Cullen grabbed my hand, gently, but I had the instinct to pull away and attack. But I was able to resist. Though my body went rigid, my instinct was clouded by another memory.

It was bright and sunny; the clean areas around me told me it was a rich area of town. After all, who else could afford to keep the streets so clean?

Glancing out the memory's peripheral vision—I saw a few cars heading in our direction on the left side of the road. How strange, it definitely wasn't in America. Probably somewhere in Europe. Maybe Britain.

"Just follow me," Dr. Cullen said as his hand slipped from mine and I did what he said. I didn't know why, but I trusted him. I already knew I would be willing to die for him if he truly wanted it.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it took so long for this short chapter to come out! I'm already working on Chapter Five, so, no worries! Please don't kill me! If this chapter seems a little rushed to you, its because I wrote this out on notebook paper. Whenever I do that I always feel the urge to rush it. I tried to spread it out a little bit and I hope that I wasn't too prosy. I'm not very good at judging myself on that. Oh yeah! I hope you're not mad at me, but I gave Esme a power. It's not like it's useful for anything unless you consider vampire therapy a good thing. _

_Please Review!_


	6. Control

_I don't own Twilight _

* * *

**Chapter Six; Control**

_Esme POV _

* * *

It had been maybe a month or so since my change and I could feel rationality come back, slowly. Very slowly. Though right now, rationality wouldn't do be any good. Only instinct and instinct alone would do.

So, I gave in. Taking a glance around, I took in my landscape again. It was the same forest, the scent of moss, grass and trees surrounded me. If Dr. Cullen didn't have the scent of rain clinging to him, he might as well have blended into it. Both of them found it a good thing to hunt with me since it would take more than one of them to hold me back.

Edward scoffed and I felt a small smile creep up on my lips. This was so insane it just had to be real. I still wasn't convinced that all of this revolved around my sanity.

A light hum murmured through my lips as pure adrenalin rushed through my system. The harsh scent of blood filled my senses and I released myself to it. A grin stretched across my face and I ran. Faster. _FASTER!_

Swiftly licking my lips, I found the thing that was releasing the magnificent scent. The large cat was rippling with oddly shaped spots on yellow fur, a long tail balancing it as it stared ahead with its eyes half-lidded. The cheetah stared ahead, still not noticing me until I took several steps forward on the branch. It moved to jump, but I was faster. It struggled, but once again: my prey was butter and I was the knife. Its blood rushed into my mouth even faster with its muscles moving and it's struggling. Absolutely delicious.

Its heartbeat pulled, pushed, and stuttered as I held to it tighter. Draining it until I could no longer feel a heartbeat. I removed my mouth from the large cat's neck and dropped it to the ground. A satisfying thump resounded from the ground. Then, another growl came from bellow me and I looked down. A grin spread across my mouth. The cheetah had a mate.

And this one was bigger.

I allowed myself to fall from the branch so that I stood in front of it. I didn't even need to move. The cat pounced on me and I burrowed my teeth into his neck. After all, males are bigger than females. This one also fought more. I was left to bliss while it struggled against me. Its life support ran down my throat until it stopped moving. I ran my fingers through its fur before setting it down next to its mate.

Rationality was coming back to me in lapses until I was tackled to the ground. Shock and anger ran through my system, but I felt paralyzed. The thing was licking the excess blood from my lips, mouth, and cheeks. Once the scent of pine and rain filled my senses, a growl came through my teeth. My body arched to the Earth and I flipped him over. My hands gripping his wrists as I stared him down.

Why did this man test my restraint?

His gold eyes were burning with hunger as he stared up at me. This man of rationality and logic was fraying at the edges. I growled again, trying to keep the memories at bay.

"Dr. Cullen," I hissed and he lunged at me again, his teeth barred.

One hand whipped up and hit his face with a hard smack. He looked in the other way with shock until he looked at me again. His sanity had returned.

"Miss Platt?" He asked with his eyebrows pulled together, the confusion was sort of cute.

A sudden shot of humility ran through me and I jumped up and away from him. My eyes wide and I put my hands in front of me. "Sorry, Dr. Cullen. My apologies."

Touching my lips and face briefly, I couldn't help but wonder what he just did. Instinct. That's what it had to be. After all, there was blood on my face. That was probably it.

Wait a minute, Edward's probably hearing my thoughts right now. They were most likely screaming to him right now if he wasn't hunting. My teeth ground into my lower lip and I brought my thumb up to my lip. Though the nail was no longer appetizing, it was a habit that traveled through muscle memory. I pursed my lips again and looked at the sky. The stars clear as day against the night sky.

"Miss Platt," Dr. Cullen said warily, "I'm sorry for my actions."

I stared at him, he wasn't making up reasons as to why it happened and it wasn't even his fault to begin with. It was mine since I couldn't control myself in front of a meal and do it gracefully as Edward and Dr. Cullen could. "Ah-Apology accepted."

I really wish that stutter had gone away after the change. It just felt so foreign.

The silence that hung in the air made me want to run. Badly. Before I truly realized it, I was running. My hair whipping around my face, dewy drops spattered around my body. Oddly, the water was warm against my skin. I suppose that just meant my skin was so cold.

I pursed my lips and looked around at my surroundings. I was in front of a creek, a slowly flowing one at that. Taking a crouch, I looked down at my reflection. Heat would have flooded into my cheeks if it was still there. The oversized T-shirt I wore was ripped to shreds just to reveal my undergarments. The skirt wasn't as bad, only a few rips here and there. I held my shirt closer to my chest when I heart muted footsteps coming in my direction.

Though I didn't need to turn around to know Dr. Cullen was behind me. I didn't dare turn around as I tried to hold the clothing to cover myself. My insides rolled around and I crossed the creek in a light jump. The vibrations that echoed around my feet felt good to my very bones. Then, I felt something on my skin—a strange scent attached to it. This was the scent of cotton and Dr. Cullen's scent. I didn't even sense him behind me!

I quickly whipped around to face him, feeling the embarrassment and confusion lift to my face. He was looking away with one of his hands over his eyes—giving me the decency to cover myself. Though I could swear he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. After all, how could only a hand cover his eye sight. But I couldn't help but be grateful that he was giving me something to cover myself up, so I quickly shrugged my arms through the sleeves and buttoned them up. The holes and buttons were out of line, as if this was hand sewn.

I frowned slightly before giggling, and here I thought Dr. Cullen was flawless. He certainly wasn't a seamstress. Another giggle came and I covered my lips briefly before seeing his confused face again. He seemed to be in relief, but still confused. I can't exactly say I blame him.

"Quite the seamstress, aren't you, Dr. Cullen?" I asked him before really thinking it through while running my fingers over the buttons.

He gave me a small smile before rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "I haven't been the one to study the subject very much and we've moved around a lot. And—"

I started to giggle again, he was rambling and he seemed to realize that when it started.

"Er, sorry," He said with a small smile.

"It's fine," I murmured to him and I reached up to ruffle his hair, it was what Twila did to me whenever I over apologized. "I shouldn't have brought it up." Silently, I cursed how tall these men were. Was it that men were always taller than women, or was that just the men I happened to meet? If I met a man shorter than me, I would swear love at first sight and marry him.

Mentally, I giggled at the strange thought. It was ridiculous that height should determine how I feel for someone, but it would be nice. "Thank you for the shirt."

He gave me an odd look, as if he had never had anyone ruffle his hair before. Doesn't every little boy get that treatment? Then a smile broke out on his face and he ruffled my hair, "You're welcome."

It was such a familiar touch, but it wasn't as warm as Twila's. I knew she would be warmer now if she was alive that is, but whenever she touched me—it was like her skin was a few degrees higher than everyone else's. It was strange, but it worked.

I was already walking away from him, walking toward the small cottage we had. Well, it was one that Dr. Cullen owned for whatever reason he always had enough money to move around the states to keep our cover from being blown.

I put my hands behind my head and watched the meadow emerge from the light that filtered through the forest. That's where the cottage was. It was incredibly peaceful and if I was human, I would most likely just stare at the sky and fall asleep with it. But all I could do was watch the sky turn from light to dark without any change of light with my vision. It was nice, but I missed the dreams. I missed the wishes of my unconscious. I suppose vampires didn't have an unconscious.

Taking a glance at the picturesque house, I fell onto my back. The impact made my insides vibrate—strange, but true. I still enjoyed staring at the sky, the clouds, and the stars. It made everything seem so small in such a big world.

I began to trace the clouds, as if playing an old dot-to-dot game with a small smile tingling my lips. Then, the sudden rush of so many scents hit me as another's finger touched my own.

The memory was like a black and white movie, he must've manipulated it to fit his preferred format. I suppose he didn't want me to see in color. Then, the color came.

I was staring into the eyes of a young girl with curly blonde hair, adoration and love pretty much spelled out what my mind was playing out. The only thing that could truly describe her eyes was violets. The beautiful flowers that I was presenting her with now. A hint of confusion was smothered with delight as she stared up at me. Modest clothing dressed her and I so badly wanted to take her into my arms now, but her father was watching and I doubted he would want me to touch her.

She ran a hand down my cheek and touched my nose briefly before hugging the flowers tighter to her chest. A swarthy smile played her lips just as she jumped on me with her arms around my neck. Shock registered as I wrapped my hands around her waist. I couldn't help but smile as she whispered a thank you into my ear and I nuzzled my nose to her neck.

A rough cough out of nowhere interrupted me and I met the gaze of her father. He was glowering down at me with a strange hostility. Though I couldn't blame him, I was holding his daughter.

Out of the view of her father, she placed a small kiss on my cheek and I felt the heat flood my neck immediately. She pulled away from me with that same, clever smile on her lips.

She knew exactly where to press to make me several shades of flustered. So, I snatched up her hand and laid a gentle kiss onto her knuckles before hearing a rather loud scolding from her father. I chuckled.

Then, it stopped and the world came round again.

Edward had removed his touch and I turned to stare at him, he looked so incredibly vulnerable right now. As if that was one of his most precious memories. I continued to stare at him.

"Do you remember her name?" I asked him softly, it felt good to have my voice back.

"No," He answered hoarsely.

I gave him a look of pity and reached a hand out as an offering and he took it. The memory didn't come back, but a different one in its place. It was of an older woman with soft, light brown hair and emerald eyes. My mother—his mother—it was very confusing because such a strange and child-like affection came through.

Suddenly the memory felt incredibly foreign. I never had this sort of affection with my mother, she never really felt anything to me either except to have me married off.

The memory came back full force and in some other world, I felt something tighten around my hand. My mother, the green eyed one, smiled at me with a joy that I couldn't help but smile back.

"How was your day Edward?" Her voice was rough and raspy, completely human. Very comforting.

"It was good," I answered, trying to advert the subject, "how was yours, Mother?"

"It was good, it was good," she said with a small smile, "Dr. Tant said I would get better."

I bent over and kissed her forehead, it was warm, "You have a cold."

"I'll be fine," She said, trying to be reassuring.

I frowned.

She coughed and cupped my face, a mother-like worry coming to her eyes. "Don't worry about me Edward. It's alright, I'll be better soon."

The memory faded and I was face to face with the younger Cullen, who was sitting on the grass with his face buried in his hands. His body shook as if he was crying, but as he told me months ago: vampires couldn't cry.

I reached over and rubbed his back briefly before he flinched away from my touch.

A frustrated breath whistled through my teeth and I concentrated before touching his back again, he didn't flinch this time. I didn't see a memory this time either, but my vision was blurred around the edges. He leaned into my touch and I found it that much harder to block out the memory that was coming so hard onto me. All I could see was red at the edges.

I quickly took my hand away from him and ruffled his hair, "It's alright, Edward."

The memory came edged in red and was on a woman who was bleeding, but I couldn't see any closer since he pulled from my touch once again.

I sighed again and stood, I could feel Edward looking at me through his hands: like a child playing hide and seek. I looked down at him and cupped his chin in my hand while using all of my control to block out the memories. "You'll be fine."

I smiled at him before walking into the cottage.

* * *

_A/N: This took a while and part of it was what I intended for the previous chapter, but I found that it was drawn out: so I pulled it a couple months ahead. It gives me the excuse of her having gold eyes, or at least amber. I haven't done that much research, but I don't think they had contacts back then. _

_Yes, I'm freakin' nuts. I updated twice in one day. But this just means that_ **Lonely Scarecrow** _needs to update_ Echo and Narcissus _soon since I updated twice in one day._

_For some reason, I might just be writing smut sooner or later. I've just been in one of those moods. _

_-shrugs- _

_Oh yeah, I really like the Edward I'm writing. He's surely a strange one and if you've found the strange thing with Esme's power, you will be awarded the next chapter dedicated to you. Just remember this: I'm being specific. _

_Please Review! _


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